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The Long and Winding Road

Planning a trip on the spur of the moment with two kids sometimes turns out to be….nothing short than a spur in the rump. I’m usually a planner. Being disorganized makes me nervous.  On Sunday night, I found out about a Christian writers conference that was being held in Black Mountain. I printed out the brochure…all 52 pages. (Adious ink cartridges.)

The peeps and I talked about it and they agreed to do their summer work, bring video games and books while I was in class and then when my classes were over, I would take them through downtown shopping, sight-seeing, climbing mountains …whatever floats their boats.

The next morning, I woke the peeps up, packed our bags and waited till 8:30 when I knew for sure they still had room at the conference. Just in case, I threw our stuff in the car and hoped for the best.

The best was yet to come.  As we ran through the house like our fannies  were on fire, the one whose fanny really is on fire thought that he might be going on this trip as well:

Bear.  The dog.  The very big dog with the even bigger tumor on his rump. The rump bump has been quite a spur for Bear…and us.  After his first surgery, he ripped all his stitches out which sent him packing to the dog hospital. 9 days later, he returned.  13 days after that, Bear’s rump bump is reappearing and that’s when we received the sad news that it was cancer.  One MORE surgery later, Bear and his bump act like nothing whatsoever is wrong. So when we are packing the car, Bear naturally thinks he and his cone are going too.

Wrong.

When Bear and his rump bump get excited, there can be real trouble around our house.  He starts acting like a maniac fool; using his cone as a demolition device. Bear and his cone charge past us, jumping and kicking, racing from one side of the house to the next.  It is in a word: infuriating.  Pictures are being literally knocked off the walls, his side swiper of a tail is crashing across the table surfaces; it is a mess. Imagine a black Tasmanian devil wearing a green cone.  It aint purty.

On the drive, we fought over the radio channels, who was gonna ride in the front seat and just exactly whose responsibility it was to take over pooper scooper duty during the summer months.  listened to quiet soothing classical Mozart. We got lost three different times due to a faulty GPS and took turns calling each other idiots because not one of us can read a real map. to the mountains safe and sound.

We arrive at the conference center and immediately Jake detects trouble:

 

Is there something else that’s supposed to be sitting here??????????

I look around to make sure my eyes aren’t fooling me and…

Yep. Two kids in a hotel room for four days and there’s no television set….

Uggggg.  It’s gonna be a long week.

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